


Glass Mold

by Crazy_Pairing_Person



Series: The Issues Squad [3]
Category: XOXO Droplets (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Emotional, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Repressed, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Prom, Promises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29810298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy_Pairing_Person/pseuds/Crazy_Pairing_Person
Summary: Nate feels like he has to be perfect - he has to fit in this mold. The perfect mold. And if he doesn't, he's letting everyone down. His friends, his family, the other students, the teachers - but most of all, he's lettinghimselfdown.But the thing is, that mold? It's made of glass. And glass is prone to breaking.
Relationships: Everett Gray/Nate Lawson, Jeremy King/Main Character | JB, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: The Issues Squad [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2160804
Kudos: 2





	Glass Mold

"You really didn't have to take all these," JB murmurs. Her eyes are on the camera, but Jeremy can see the slight guilt within nonetheless. "I know you didn't want to go, even with me-"

"It's not that I didn't want to go at all," Jeremy immediately says. "I mean, I didn't... But with you, I'm okay with doing stuff I don't want to. Because it's with you."

JB swallows thickly, her thumb hesitating over the camera button. Jeremy can tell - she can't let herself believe that. And she can't bring herself to pretend anymore, either.

It's weird, seeing her like this. He reaches over, choosing to not bring it up for now. "Here. Let me show you the photo I think you'll love most."

He presses the button a few times, cycling through the photos until he comes on the one he had known she would want to see the most. There on the camera screen, under a dimly lit light, in full view of the others at prom, he had captured Everett and Nate's kiss.

JB's jaw drops, and she immediately perks up, a bit of genuine excitement coming to her eyes. "Oh my god!" she squeals, kicking her feet under the thin blanket. "They kissed?! Really?!"

"It's a camera, not a piece of paper," Jeremy says dryly. "Yeah, they kissed. Though when I saw it, it seemed more like Everett kissed Nate..."

Some of JB's excitement dissipates then, giving way to some sort of concern. "Oh. Did... How did Nate react?"

Jeremy shrugs. "He didn't."

"...Huh?"

"He kinda acted like nothing happened when the dance was over. He didn't seem mad or anything, but he didn't look happy either... So I don't know." He hums thoughtfully, eyes trained on the camera. "Maybe he wanted to talk about it with Everett alone?"

JB nods slowly, biting her lower lip. "Yeah, maybe..."

* * *

Nate feels like he's in a mold.

It's a very specific sort of mold. And he feels like, if he doesn't force himself to fit into every bit of it, every sort of corner and twist and turn, then he's letting down the people who made that mold.

Who made it?

His parents, who sent him to this school thinking he'd do better here than anywhere else. His teachers, who have watched him grow over the years and know how he constantly reaches for perfection. His fellow students, who have also watched him, and know how he makes them look in comparison.

Worst of all, himself.

So what is this mold in the shape of?

It's in the shape of a perfect, rule-following student, for his teachers. A perfect, respectful son, for his parents. A perfect, yet still unapproachable, classmate, for the others in his year.

For Everett, the mold changed, a while back.

It used to be in the shape of a rival. Then it became a respected, but still distant classmate. Then it was a friend.

Recently, Nate couldn't tell if it was still in that shape, or if it had changed yet again.

But he didn't - doesn't - want to talk about it. Because that would mean opening up and talking about his feelings.

And you know the best part about a mold?

It's hollow.

If he's hollow, if he's a mold, then he doesn't have to acknowledge his feelings. If he pretends nothing has changed - either with his feelings or Everett's - then he doesn't have to acknowledge that it really has.

So even though something within him sparked and cheered when Everett kissed him, even though he wanted to pull him back and make their lips meet again and again, he would much rather pretend it hadn't happened at all.

If he does that, then he doesn't have to worry about this glass mold of his shattering and leaving him as nothing but a mess.

* * *

"Nate."

Everett's tone isn't as patient as it was the last couple of times he'd called out. But Nate, still, ignores him, eyes trained intently on the notebook before him. Another favor for JB - looking over her notes while she's laid up in the nurse's office. He's organizing them a bit better, making them easier for her to read and understand, as well as adding more relevant information.

He hears a creak of a bed, and then the dull thudding of Everett's footsteps. He ignores it, and erases one word before rewriting it, spelled correctly this time.

" _Nate_."

He jolts and looks up this time, eyes wide.

Everett's face is close to his, familiarly close. He recalls being on the dance floor, remembers how comforting and right Everett's hand had felt on his neck as he pulled him down and...

Face burning, he says, "What? I'm busy."

Everett glances down at the notes he's working on. Nate sees the way his eyes falter for a moment in realization, and he hopes that maybe he'll get out of talking for now-

But then Everett lets out a low sigh, and says, "Let me talk to you, and then I'll leave you alone once I've gotten it out. Okay?"

Nate purses his lips. "...Fine," he mumbles. "But I'm gonna keep working on these, so I can't guarantee I'll hear you."

"Bitch, please, you would hear me if I was sneaking out even if you had screamo blasting through headphones on your head. I know damn well you're gonna hear me talk to you while you're quietly redoing JB's notes."

Nate chooses to not confirm or deny the accuracy of that statement, and turns his eyes back to the papers in his hand.

Everett seems to take this as his signal to start talking.

"I'm not sure if you could tell from me kissing you earlier," Everett says, slow and careful, before forcing out the rest in a rush, "but I'm kind of in love with you."

Nate's pencil freezes.

Fuck, he'd known that was what this was going to be about.

"And, I know you didn't exactly react to the kiss, but... I can't really tell if that's good or bad. I mean, did you like it, and that's why? Or did you hate it, but you're sparing my feelings?" Everett's voice cracks a little. Nate hears him swear under his breath, which is kind of new - usually, Everett swears at the top of his lungs, or at least at a properly audible volume.

Nate feels his hand shake.

There's a beat of silence before Everett lets out another shaking sigh. "I just... I wanted to say that. That I love you. And... If you'd have me, I'd love to be your boyfriend. Just yours. I wouldn't go out with anymore girls. I wouldn't even hit on JB anymore!"

Nate sucks in a breath, and then lets it out slowly. It must get Everett's attention, because his little speech is promptly cut off. Nate lifts his eyes, and sees pale blue ones watching him intently, wide and hopeful. He's shifting, and at some point during this conversation he'd taken off his glasses to fiddle with them.

Nate swallows. If he doesn't want to say his feelings outright, then maybe... Maybe it would be easier if...

"...I thought we were already dating."

The words are carefully deadpan, and he even makes sure to raise one eyebrow to make it seem like he's serious about the words.

Everett freezes. He blinks once, then twice.

"What the fuck?!"

Nate jumps. Nervous, barely-contained hope has been swiftly replaced by anger, it seems. Wrong move, then. But it's better, still, right? The best, yet still indirect way to talk about his emotions. "What, is that bad?" he asks, glancing down as if he really doesn't understand Everett's sudden fury.

"Well, I mean-! No, I guess! But, well... How long have you thought that?! I mean, damn, Nate! I've flirted with so many girls! Some of them while you were there, too! How haven't you done anything about that?! And why haven't you fucking _said_ anything?! What the _fuck,_ Nate?!"

Everett groans, one hand going up to run through his hair, while the other clutched tightly to one leg of his glasses. Nate purses his lips when he notices, unable to stop the thought that he'll probably break them if he keeps that up. He's about to comment on that, before he stops and reminds himself that that might upset Everett further.

"I... Guess I just thought it was obvious," Nate says, slow and careful. "And about your flirting... Well, that's different from you actually cheating, so..."

Everett huffs. "Well, better late than never, I guess," he says, though still visibly irritated. "I mean, hell, it means you love me back, so I guess I can't really complain either way."

Nate tenses up, and says nothing, eyes falling back to the papers.

Everett, unfortunately, takes notice of his silence. "...Nate?"

He refuses to respond.

"Nate."

Nope.

" _Nate Motherfucking Lawson!_ You do love me back, right?!"

Nate purses his lips, and curls in on himself a little.

Everett lets out a groan. "Goddammit... Nate, listen, I get it. Okay? You don't like emotions - even though you're literally the most fucking emotional guy I know, whatever. But listen, I need you to use your goddamn words. You love me back, right? Hell, you don't have to say love if you don't want to, okay? You can say like! You can say 'I think you're okay'. You can say what-fucking-ever, but I need to know that my feelings are fucking returned here."

Nate drops his pencil so that he can curl his hand into a fist. "Listen, Everett-"

"No, Nate, you fucking listen," Everett snaps. "I don't give a fuck why the hell you thought we were already dating, okay, I don't. But if you can't actually legitimately tell me that you hold some sort of fucking feelings for me, then-"

"I don't want to have feelings, damn it!"

Everett jumps. Nate shoots up, letting the notes fall from his lap. He doesn't bother trying to pick them up as he moves to frantically pace the room. He feels Everett's gaze on him, burning him, and it does nothing to help.

"Nate, what are you-"

"I can't... I hate this, okay?" Nate forces out. "I have all this fucking pressure, and... And emotions just fucking weigh me down! I don't want to deal with them, damn it! They don't help anyone! And..." He groans, hands running down his face as he narrowly avoids running straight into one of the walls of their room. Damn it. "I fucking... I feel like I'm gonna break at any moment, okay?! I have to be a perfect student, and son, and... And I don't need fucking falling in love with my goddamn best friend to make it worse!"

He lets out a loud, deep breath and slams his forehead to the wall. Another sigh, and he closes his eyes. Just focus on the pressure on your head, and not anything else... Nothing else is weighing him down, nothing else exists, just him and the wall...

And... Uh.

"Everett? What are you doing?"

"I'm fucking hugging my boyfriend, shut up."

Nate squirms, but Everett is stronger than he has any right to be. "Everett, no, I don't-"

"Just shut up, okay? We don't have to talk about your feelings for now, but... I just want you to know I'm here, alright?" Everett sighs shakily and holds Nate tighter, if it's possible, and rests his forehead against the back of the taller's shoulder. "I'm here. I didn't know you felt so... Pressured. If I had, I... I wouldn't have even kissed you earlier, I-"

"No."

Everett shifts, Nate can feel it, but he doesn't let go. "What?"

"I... I didn't mind when you kissed me," Nate murmurs. "I liked it, actually. So I don't want you to try and take that back. I just... It's hard for me to talk about how I feel about people. You know that."

"I... I know. I'm sorry." Everett sighs softly. "I wasn't thinking... I'm sorry."

Nate shakes his head. "It's... It's fine. I kinda feel better after ranting like that." He lets out a weak laugh. "So... Thanks for giving me a reason?"

"You can do that any time," Everett says quickly. "Just, whenever you need to vent, about anything. I'm here, okay? I don't... I don't want you to feel like you have to deal with that on your own. Because you don't. I mean, you don't have to talk, if you don't want to, but... You're not... You don't always have to be perfect. No one is! I can't even imagine... I..." He hears Everett sniffle behind him. "I can't believe I actually thought you were able to handle it without getting stressed... I'm so fucking sorry, Nate, I'm sorry."

Nate swallows thickly. "Everett... Let me go."

"No!"

"Let me go, so I can hug you back."

A beat of silence passed, then Everett's weight slowly left Nate's back. Nate turned around and promptly pulled Everett to him, hiding his face in Everett's dumb (cute) puff of hair. "This is better," he mumbles. "You're more comforting than a wall."

Everett snorts and wraps his arms, once more, around Nate. "Wow, such high praise."

"Mm."

This... Actually feels much nicer, much better than holding things in. Than forcing himself to hold all of the pressure and responsibility on his own.

"...Hey, Everett?"

"Mm?"

"Wanna help me with JB's notes?"

"I would love to."


End file.
